didn’t want to think about this now. He rubbed his
morning erection against the sheets, wishing Keaton
would forget waffles and come back to bed. Keaton was
paying far too much attention to food and far too little
attention to his lover than was proper for a Saturday
morning.
Aiden could remedy that.
* * * *
set the thick rubber spatula on the counter. He heard
Aiden call, “Oh my
God
, it smells good in here,” as he
bounded down the stairs. Keaton smiled, pleased—in no
small part with himself—that they’d reached a point
where Aiden was actually excited about breakfast. He
started to answer, but his reply turned to a groan as
Aiden waltzed into the kitchen wearing the tightest pants
Keaton had ever seen.
They were cargo-style, and the khaki fabric
stretched taut over the curves of the boy’s buttocks.
Aiden’s shirt was too short to cover
anything
.
“What’s the matter?” Aiden asked innocently,
walking past Keaton to the silverware drawer. He bent
forward exaggeratedly as he retrieved a spoon, wiggling
his ass in Keaton’s direction.
Keaton picked up the rubber spatula, landing a
sound smack to the center of his target. Aiden yelped
and straightened, putting one hand behind him to rub.
Keaton caught him and bent him over one arm. Now
Aiden’s ass wiggled inadvertently in its attempt to get
away. “You think you can parade in here wearing those
and not expect to drive me
wild
?” Keaton growled in the
and not expect to drive me
wild
?” Keaton growled in the
boy’s ear.
Aiden gasped and struggled. Keaton landed three
more smacks to his ass. “Bend over the counter.”
“No, please, Sir,” Aiden begged even as he
complied, thrusting his ass out so wantonly that Keaton
had to fight back a chuckle.
“Oh, you’re going to get exactly what you’re asking
for.”
Keaton proceeded to paddle the boy’s bottom, the
heavy spatula making a wonderful thudding sound each
time it landed. Aiden moaned and humped the air, his
arousal feeding Keaton’s. Aiden let out an almost
inhuman keen as Keaton delivered two sharp swats to
the back of each thigh, then put the spatula down. “Are
you a naughty boy?” Keaton asked.
“Yes,” Aiden whispered.
“Stand up.”
Aiden’s legs shook visibly as he did. He faced
Keaton, and his face was so flushed, his expression so
hungry that Keaton’s cock throbbed. Keaton unsnapped
the boy’s pants, placing his hand against the front of his
underwear. Aiden began to beg incoherently, rubbing
against Keaton’s hand. With his other hand, Keaton
squeezed the boy’s sore bottom through his pants.
“ A h ,
ah
!” Aiden cried, coming suddenly. He
collapsed against Keaton, who chuckled and hugged
him close.
Aiden recovered after a few moments and righted
himself. He started to snap his pants. “Uh-uh,” Keaton
said. “What about me? Paddling that naughty bottom of
yours made me hard.” He leaned forward and
whispered in Aiden’s ear, “I want to fuck you.”
Aiden shivered. “Yes,” he managed to whisper. He
started to take his pants down.
“No.”
Aiden stopped.
“I’ve decided you can fasten your fly after all. I
want to see those pants stretched across your sore
bottom as you stand in the corner and wait for me to fuck
you.”
Aiden’s eyes widened. He snapped his pants with
trembling fingers, and Keaton sent him into a corner with
a sound swat. For a few minutes, Keaton sat and
appreciated the picture his boy made, standing with his
hands behind his head, still swaying a little in the wake
of his orgasm, his round ass displayed perfectly in the
tight cargo pants. Keaton imagined the heat radiating
from the paddled flesh, imagined how it would feel to
squeeze and slap the reddened cheeks as he drove into
Aiden. Finally he couldn’t stand it any longer and went
to the bedroom to fetch condoms and lube.
He returned to the kitchen and sat at the table. He
watched the boy tense in anticipation as he listened to
Keaton unsnap his fly and remove his pants. Keaton
ripped open the condom package and uncapped the
lube. “Come here,” he ordered. Aiden turned and
walked unsteadily to the table. Keaton stood and drew
one of the cushioned chairs back from the table. “Kneel,”
he said, patting the cushion. “You can grab on to the
back of the chair.”
Aiden knelt on the edge of the seat, slowly moving
forward, gripping the rungs of the chair back. Keaton
wondered for a second if the boy’s pants would split,
they were stretched so tight across his buttocks. Keaton
reached under Aiden and undid the fly, pulling his pants
down and off.
Aiden wore light blue briefs, and Keaton could see
red splotches from the spatula on the backs of his thighs,
disappearing under the fabric. He stretched the
waistband of Aiden’s briefs, then let it snap. Aiden’s
breath caught. “I’m going to take you, Aiden. Exactly as I
want to take you.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Keaton,” he corrected.
“Yes, Keaton.”
“And I want you to enjoy it.”
“Yes,” Aiden said softly.
“I’d like to hear you beg for it.”
Aiden moaned. Keaton hooked his fingers under
the waistband of Aiden’s briefs and peeled them down,
exposing the pink and white flesh beneath. “Mmm,”
Keaton said, palming Aiden’s left cheek, rubbing it
slowly, firmly. “Such nice color.”
Keaton stepped over to the counter and picked up
the rubber spatula. “I might need this again,” he said,
cracking it against his hand. He loved how Aiden’s
buttocks clenched at the sound. “What do you want,
Aiden?”
“F-for you to fuck me. Please. Please, Keaton.”
“When do you want your fucking?”
“Now!” Aiden begged. “
Please
.”
Keaton chuckled and picked up the lube. He
spread Aiden’s cheeks and greased the boy’s hole, giving
Aiden a light slap when he flinched from the cold.
Keaton slipped a finger into the tight opening. Aiden
struggled to breathe, his knuckles white as he gripped
the chair rungs. Keaton slowly moved his finger in and
out, swirling it around the tight channel, loving the little
hitches in Aiden’s breathing. Keaton added a second
finger. Aiden groaned. “Please, please I can’t take it
anymore.”
“What can’t you take?” Keaton asked.
“
Teasing
. Please just fuck me!”
“
Teasing
. Please just fuck me!”
“Oh I’m going to tease you awhile,” Keaton said
smugly. He thrust his fingers, drawing groans and pleas
from Aiden. Then he added a third finger and began
brushing the boy’s prostate as he finger fucked him.
“Oh,” Aiden cried. “Oh oh
oh
!”
With his free hand, Keaton pinched the undercurve
of Aiden’s right cheek hard. Aiden squealed and rocked
against Keaton’s fingers. Keaton began a pattern,
pinching a spot on Aiden’s bottom, creating a sharp,
concentrated pain, then delivering a sound slap to
spread the pain out. All the while, he drove the cone of
his fingers into the boy’s ass. He even gave a light pinch
to the back of the boy’s balls, which produced such a
lovely moan that Keaton flicked the heavy sac with his
forefinger. “Ow! Oh! Please, please,
please
… ”
“What do you want?”
“You… in me… now.” Aiden panted.
Keaton withdrew his fingers. He slicked himself
and drove in without preamble. He fucked the boy’s
tight, hot passage, reaching around to palm Aiden’s
chest, rubbing and pinching his nipples.
“Oh!” Aiden yelled. “Yes! Oh God, stop! Please,
don’t stop. Ow, yes, please… ”
Keaton reached over and picked up the spatula,
and, like a jockey in the backstretch, began walloping
whatever parts of Aiden’s rump he could reach as he
raced toward his own orgasm. Aiden cried out and
rocked on the edge of the chair, his face pressed against
the rungs.
“Come on, boy,” Keaton ordered. “Bring me
home.”
Aiden clenched his ass around Keaton’s cock, and
Keaton shot his load into the condom with a shout. He
almost collapsed against the boy’s back, but with a last
reserve of strength, he stood up straight, grabbed Aiden,
and laid him faceup on the kitchen table. He pulled the
boy’s legs apart and took the hard, bobbing cock into his
mouth. Aiden writhed, his fists clenching and
unclenching. Keaton sucked the shaft, swallowing
around it, then lapped at the head. He withdrew, and
Aiden moaned, “No. No, no, please… ”
“Have you learned your lesson?”
“Yes!”
“What is it?”
Aiden could barely find breath to answer. “That
dressing naughty gets me two orgasms.”
Keaton laughed. “Who said anything about two?”
“Oh please… ” Aiden’s back arched.
“Dressing naughty gets you paddled, and”—
Keaton licked the slit of the boy’s cock—“teased.”
Aiden let out a groan of frustration, gyrating his
hips, trying to get more contact. “I’ll be good,” he
whimpered. “Really. Just please, please let me come.”
“How do you think it’ll feel to have those tight
pants stretched across your sore ass all day?”
Aiden keened. “I don’t knoooooowwwwww.”
“You should have thought of that before you wore
those in front of me.” With a grin, he went down on
Aiden once more, taking him all the way into his throat.
Aiden came hard, then went completely limp.
Keaton wiped his mouth, leaned across the table,
and kissed the boy. “Naughty boy. You’re all worn-out.”
Aiden’s eyes fluttered, and he nodded.
“Maybe you should lie down awhile.”
Aiden didn’t protest. Keaton scooped him up and
carried him to the living room, depositing him gently on
the couch, facedown, and spreading a blanket over him.
Aiden sighed and arched his back, pushing his ass
into the air. Keaton gave it a couple of firm pats through
the blanket.
“Owwwww,
no,
I’m
being
good,”
Aiden
murmured, eyes closed.
“You are,” Keaton agreed. “I just can’t resist.”
Aiden smiled. “Love you,” he said.
“Love you too.”
Aiden woke up, dark thoughts crawling inside him.
He didn’t know what had caused the shift in his mood.
Had he had a nightmare? He grabbed his phone from the
coffee table to check the time and saw he had two new
texts. From Scott.
Party @ Obey 2night. Brng boyfriend. Or don’t. New toys
to show you. Hot. Hard-core.
The second text read:
I miss you.
Aiden shook his head. Scott Runge was a
manipulative, arrogant bastard. He ought to text Scott
back and tell him to fuck off. Except that heat surged
through him at the thought of a party in Obey’s basement
dungeon and at the idea of new toys and a hard-core
scene. He’d loved what he and Keaton had done this
morning, but part of him still missed hard-core play—the
costumes, the equipment, the real, lasting
pain
.
He shifted and winced as his sore butt made contact
with the couch.
Talk about lasting pain
. Another text came
through from Scott.
Pick u up @ 9.
Shit. No way did Scott mean it. He wasn’t going to
come here to pick Aiden up. Aiden forced himself to
breathe. There was a good chance he and Keaton would
still be at Hera’s at nine. Scott could wait as long as he
wanted. Aiden already had plans.
What if Scott did wait?
What if he was in the driveway when Aiden and
Keaton got home?
Aiden’s heart jumped anxiously, and he willed it to
be calm. It was two thirty-two. He wasn’t sure where
Keaton was. He decided to go to the gym for an hour,
then come back and get ready for dinner.
The exercise made him feel a little better—until he
got home and checked the mail and found an envelope
from UC Irvine. He tore it open and scanned the letter.
They had rejected him.